


Elia.

by wanderlustfull



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: (or trying to be), And a little confused, Elippo, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, also he's bisexual, elia is a musician baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 13:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17325716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustfull/pseuds/wanderlustfull
Summary: Elia's season following Martino's.





	Elia.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! so in the past few months my life has been entirely about skam italia and basically nothing else, which means I needed to attempt writing something badly about one of my favourite characters. this is just an interpretation of what an Elia season could look like, I've taken some creative liberties with his character and family situation, I hope you enjoy. <3

 

“An idiot”

**Friday, December 21st 2018 - 21:27**

"You know this is my first time decorating the tree?"

Luca was in the middle of unpacking some baubles, throwing pieces of plastic in Elia’s direction every time he managed to tear one off.

"No way, you’re seventeen. It’s not possible." 

Luca laughed. "Well, it's always my brother and sister who got to do it. 

“And you never thought of just helping them?” Elia asked incredulously. 

“Nah, Lorenzo always smelled too intensely like play doh and it put me off. Can you hand me another one?" 

“You are completely ridiculous, bro.”

Luca only kept gesturing down to the decorations expectantly, making Elia chuckle. He leaned down to the box and found the last ornament, registering the bubbly background soundscape properly. 

"Il go get some more, Marti said they were in the hallway," he said handing it to his friend. 

The smell of cinnamon and panettone had filled the entire house as he walked through it, busy with people. Over by the sofas Eva and her friends were opening presents together, the rest of the guests spread around in the room’s corners and at the table. 

Elia recognized most of them, like Argentina and a couple of familiar faces from his classes. He passed Gio holding had two drinks in his hand and flipped him off with a smile. In the kitchen Marti was smiling genuinely again, helping Nico cook something he was already nervous to try, but would anyway.

In the hallway he found the baubles in a box on the top shelf of a cupboard, which he extracted gently with one hand before closing the door. The contents were on the floor merely moments later when someone turned into Elia unexpectedly.

Like operating on auto pilot, he had stepped back, apologized and leaned down to pick them up within an instant. Both the voice and indeed the person he came face to face with after getting up were unfamiliar. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” the guy offered quickly.

From only slightly above Elia’s own eyeline, a pair of twinkling dark eyes returned his gaze. This guy had a piercing right in the middle of his lip, and hair that was dyed light blonde with curls falling in all directions. It was all Elia had time to take in before realizing not responding would make him look like an idiot. 

“No it’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

The guy flashed him a smile.

“I’m Filippo,” he said offering his hand.

He remembered the name: Martino’s friend who had met him out in Rome one night when he was shitfaced, and put him up at his flat. 

“Elia,” he said extending his own hand. “Marti told us about you.”

"Oh right,” A wider grin spread across his face. “Any good stuff?" 

That probably did sound a bit too suggestive.

He thought at a speed he had never before, searching for anything appropriately casual to answer, but couldn’t come up with a single damn thing. Instead he opted for laughing hesitantly and looking away, a mental sign flickering the question _what the fuck on_ and off in his mind. 

“Well, I better go help Luchino. There’s a serious chance the tree is already on the floor as we speak,” he explained as Filippo gave him and I see kind of look. “but uhm.. Merry Christmas.”

_You look like an idiot right now._

Filippo only raised his eyebrows, scanning Elia from top to toe in the blink of an eye. His shoulders rose slowly as he beamed a “Merry Christmas,” back.

Elia stepped away and walked out to the living room entrance, finding Luca standing by the tree stuffing his face with cake. “Finally, Jesus. C’mon let’s get this done.”

Later, when they had resumed as before, Elia felt an inexplicable urge to turn around again. He did, immediately finding Filippo standing by the table looking straight at him, curious smile on his face.

 

 

“My options”

**Tuesday, December 25th 2018 - 19:15**

It was just the three of them this year. 

Elia's father had fallen out with his brother very badly again, meaning the original plan to go and spend two days there was thrown out the window. And as much as he could take, there weren’t many plans he could think of that were worse than spending days locked indoor with his parents.

The air around dinner was icy and quiet, hardly any decorations around. His mother picked at the food, trying to make as little noise as possible, his father occasionally glaring at her. There had basically been no conversation at all and Elia couldn’t remember a Christmas worse than this one.

“I know your absences at school have gone up,” his father began eventually. He always did. Elia didn’t look at him or reply. “I’m really not happy about this. Neither is your mother.”

His mother’s eyes remained intensely fixed on her plate as he wondered how the hell they had found out. 

“I have nothing to say about it.” 

He didn’t, and was starting to get really fucking tired of this.

It was like there were never breaks between one family dinner and another. Only questions and interrogations. It had all begun to spiral badly after his father was fired last month, to the point he was angry constantly and unpredictable. Cutlery was slammed down on the table, shaking and startling his mother.

“Oh you definitely do, Elia. I know you think it’s all funny but it’s embarrassing behaviour. Not just for us but for yourself – “

“It was the last day of school! Elia cut him off loudly, “I went out with my friends for the last two hours, where is the problem? I missed nothing important.” _Stop it now_ , he berated himself immediately. _This is what he wants, for you to lose it._

“Well you know already what I think about your friends.”

“My friends –“ he took deep breath and shook his head with a weak smile. This really wasn’t worth it. He could never understand because he doesn’t have a kind bone in his body. So he kept quiet again, and his father leaned back in something he probably considered victory.

“You’re seventeen years old, my god.” He brought a hand to his head like it was hard to fathom the idea of Elia being a teenager and acting this way. “Start acting like it, make some plans for once. How many more of these Christmases are you planning to be here for?” His father was still looking at him from across the table expectantly, as if waiting for him to interrupt again. He didn’t, there was no way to win.

The truth was that Elia had grown used to the fact he was a disappointment. He didn’t have plans. He didn’t have any fucking idea about the future and didn’t want to think about it. How could he?

"I'm considering my options," he answered finally, picking up half of a potato with his fingers and stuffing it in his mouth. 

_I hope this pisses you off, Dad._

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Go to your room, we don’t want to see you down here right now.”

Elia didn’t move for a moment but stared straight back. Then slowly, without breaking eye contact, got up and pushed his chair in. “Alright,” he said shrugging his shoulders, “Merry Christmas then. Talk to me again when you decide to be real parents.”

He regretted it as soon as the words had been spoken, for it was the worst thing he could do to provoke his father. He was already on his feet, face flustered and angry. Elia made for the stairs within seconds and ran up taking large steps. He reached his room and bolted the door just in time. 

There was silence first.

“We aren’t finished here,” he heard his father mutter through the door. “You’re lucky your mother is around. If it were up to me I’d have thrown you out already.”

“Maybe your last solution of knocking sense into me will work better no?”

There was a huge bang on the door and he took a step back instantly. “Do not test me, Elia. I mean it.”

The noise of steps on the stairs came eventually and he allowed himself to take a deep breath. Tears filled his eyes as he fell onto his bed and sobbed. 

 

_What if I never get out of here?_

 

 

“The Name of the Game”

**Thursday, December 27th - 13:42**

"I'm glad you had a good Christmas nonna, I'm really sorry we couldn't be there.”

The soft voice on the other side of the line was concerned as he tried to reassure her, partially in the hope if he did it with enough conviction, he could believe it himself.

“Mum wasn’t feeling well you see”

The bedroom window slammed shut with a loud thump that shook the walls heavily. Elia jumped up from his bed, crossing the room in two steps to bolt the hatch down with his free hand.

“Yeah I know, not exactly.”

For a moment he thought he heard a door open downstairs, but nothing happened. He breathed again.

"No don't worry, she is much better now. I'm sure she'll call you soon. "

The wind continued to whistle. It rustled the tree by the window to the point a small branch fell off. He put his hand on the ledge and glanced out.

“Oh and nonna - I was wondering if I could come over to practice soon. It’s been a while since I’ve held a guitar actually.” His voice goes stupidly soft at the end of that sentence and he wonders if maybe he really is losing it.

“Ok, thank you so much. I love you too, see you soon. Yep. Ciao.”

He hangs up quickly in the fear of tears welling in his eyes again. Neither of his parents have checked in on him or spoken a word to him in the last two days. It's too lonely.

Seeing his friends again is not far away though, and there’s no reason to cry right now, so he decides against it; Instead opening Instagram in the hope of finding distraction or seeing something particularly funny.

It’s the usual array of stupid memes and music videos until there’s a picture of Chicco Roddi on a roof top with a crate of beer and a santa hat. He scrolls further down and finds something he can smile at genuinely. Martino’s new post is a picture of him and Niccolò, sitting together on the sofa in pyjamas with chocolate on their faces and it’s really adorable, though Elia would never word it like that to them. Marti has his arm around Niccolò, who’s leaning his head on his shoulder.

Before he can comment something funny involving various emojis, a notification shows up at the bottom of the page.

"Filippo Sava has requested to follow you.”

Elia quickly clicks on the profile, recognising the guy he met at the Christmas party a week earlier. He’s thought about their interaction more than a couple of times, but the thought of looking him up on here hadn’t even occurred. _I’m so stupid_ is one half of his immediate thoughts, _he looked me up_ is the other.

Unlike his own, Filippo’s Instagram profile is public and has twenty posts on it.

Elia recognises the girls in a picture taken at Martino's house last week, which is captioned "reunited :).” The next few vary: a couple of selfies, mostly with friends or Eleonora, a dog, pride flag, a sunset with a glass of sangria. Loads of colour. 

He keeps scrolling until there’s a video from 5 months ago. 

It's summer, evident from the shorts Filippo’s wearing and the sunglasses he’s got pushed back on his head. It’s also dark, evidently taken on some night out. Filippo’s sitting on an old bench, smirking at the camera with wide eyes, until one of the laughing voices in the background appears in front of the camera. His friend hands him an orange ukulele, and in between giggles announces the upcoming one time concert from the musical legend that is Filippo Sava.

Elia finds himself mirroring Filippo’s own smile. _What the fuck even is this? Who owns an orange ukelele?_

He strums the strings softly, an exaggerated contemplative look on his face. “Ok!” He shouts. “This is an oldie, by the best group of all time. Prepare yourselves.” That evokes more giggles and whistles from the audience.

Filippo’s voice surprises him, and considering how evidently drunk he is, it’s not that bad at all even when he’s mostly just shouting. It takes Elia a moment to register the song since the English is pretty hidden under his accent.

_What I'm trying to conceal, If I trust in you, would you let me down? Would you laugh at me, if I said I care for you?_

Oh my god. Elia grins again and brings his hand up to his face. This guy. He’s not exactly an expert in that genre of music, but even he can recognise ABBA. Filippo seems really into it and its hilarious.

The video ends with applauding and more laughter. Filippo takes some mock bows and almost falls over, but steadies himself in front of the camera. It’s how flirty he sounds when saying: “I’m available on week days only. But if you’re cute I might consider weekends!” that spurs some warmth to rise up to Elia’s face. 

With that he accepts the follow request, follows him back and puts his phone away. A silence follows in the room, but as usual it can it only prompt chaos in his mind.

And once again, he’s thinking it. About how long he's going to be asking himself the same questions over and over again without finding the answers.

_Is there something more here?_

_Have you had everything wrong from the start?_

_What would you do if this happened, and this and this and this?_

And of course simply,

_Do you like boys?_

The more he thought about it the more his breathing resembled sighing, and the more lost he felt. Perhaps it was only because of how much he liked girls, girls and their soft curves and sweet smelling hair. How often he could think about them without tiring and how out of the blue this had all hit him all at once.

It was months ago now, actually. Elia had just been quite good at ignoring it.

With the boys the main topic of discussion had since long been girls. Pretty much always. Argentina, Covitti, Polidoro; what they looked like, going to talk to them, seeing them at parties. It was fine. He agreed with all of it and there was no need to voice his other thoughts.

And then, Martino told them he had something going on with a boy and Elia had frozen on the spot.

He’d never been more ashamed in his life about the way he had handled something than then. Always pushing the idea of girls onto his friend so intensely without even considering he wasn’t interested, making comments about staying away from touching him and other stupid things he might have said around Marti throughout their friendship.

Had he just been trying to cope with his own repressed shit? Definitely. It left him feeling like shit and he knew he needed to change. He needed to be a better friend than that. If Marti had found the courage to be honest, he owed it to them too.

And he was going to tell them, but not while he didn’t understand it himself. 

_Ah, but when will I then? _he thought cynically.__

__

__**Saturday, December 30th 2018 - 20:09** _ _

__**CONTRABBANDIERI DI LUCHINI**  
_Gio, Luchino, Marti, Tu__ _

__**Luchino** : Am I supposed to bring any beer this time??_ _

__**Gio** : YES_ _

__**Luchino** : Ahh c’mon you gave me 2 bottles last time and now I have to supply all 3 of you for fucking New Years Eve?_ _

__**Marti** : Luca, we rotate and it’s your turn. You know that’s how it works :P Plus we’re bringing it to make a good impression_ _

__**Gio** : :P ?_ _

__**Marti** : haha I forgot I can use actual emojis here _ _

__**Gio** : :P :) :( :s :3_ _

__**Luchino** :_ _

___/)ii/)_  
(o " )  
| |  
|o|  
| |________||  
| o |  
| o______o |  
|| || || ||  
|| || || || 

__

__**Marti** : …is that supposed to be a giraffe? _ _

__**Luchino** : <3_ _

__**Marti** : I regret telling you guys anything_ _

__**Gio** : Elia are you coming tomorrow??_ _

__You : I will yeah, when are we welcome?_ _

__**Gio** : Marti?_ _

__**Marti** : Filippo says anytime after 9:30_ _

__You : Alright, send the address through _ _

__

__“New Year’s Eve”_ _

__**Monday, December 31st 2018 - 22:11** _ _

__Elia is convinced this might be the longest Gio has ever concentrated for in his life._ _

__His head is tilted back as the piece of dark chocolate begins to melt traces onto his skin, moving down slowly when Gio tenses his face in hilarious ways. He’s got his arms held out like someone walking a tightrope, occasionally flailing them around creating quite the sight. Niccolò is sitting next to him, giggling heavily._ _

__“C’mon Gio,” Marti encourages. He leans over to Luca and says: “He’s done this before you know, get your money out.”_ _

__Luca snorts. “You know what, I’m never betting with you guys about anything anymore.”_ _

__Sure enough, the chocolate reaches Gio’s mouth by some miracle, and he throws his hands up in the air in victory. “Hand it over then, asshole!”_ _

__Clapping and cheering ensues as a smiling Luca pushes a five euro bill into his hand reluctantly._ _

__They’re sitting around on the sofa in the Sava’s living room, all the lights dimmed and the air warm. In front of them the tv is set on a channel playing music videos from the year, barely audible over all the noise._ _

__Elia looks around and guesses there’s at least twenty other people there, impressive for the flat’s size. Apparently Martino had been the one invited and told to bring his friends by Filippo, who he hasn’t seen other than at the door earlier. Of course his stomach had stupidly flipped when their eyes had found each other._ _

__“Luca,” Gio begins. “What if I bet you I could do two pieces at once? Five more Euros?”_ _

__“No way bro, you are bleeding me dry already.”_ _

__Elia laughs at that. “Oh so this beer you bought us is actually really upmarket stuff?”_ _

__Luca motions to the bottles around them and gasps. “This fine beer? Fuck you, this is the best of the best stuff, I even made sure to get something expensive after your complaints last time. Just because I like you so much, Santini.”_ _

__“It’s nothing personal, Luchino” he replies putting his hands up. “But maybe I’ll go find something else, yeah?”_ _

__“Suit yourself then,” Luca says as he gets up. “But one of these days I will serve you something and you will impressed.”_ _

__Elia smiles with the others. “We’ll see. I hope so.”_ _

__He spots the table by the right hand side of the room and walks over, pushing his way in between everyone. There’s rows of bottles and bowls with food, with fairy lights strung across like a river in between them, and he can’t help but think this whole thing took some effort to organise. The beer he finds is undoubtedly better than his first one, so he opens it and pours it into his glass absentmindedly._ _

__“You’re not bad, you know.”_ _

__Elia is only startled by the proximity of the voice behind him; who it belongs to he knows already._ _

__Filippo’s beer is still half full. His light hair looks intentionally messy, tight dark green shirt hugging his chest in a way that makes Elia wish he could sink into the floor. He's also smiling like he's trying to figure something out and suddenly the sinking thing actually feels quite plausible._ _

__It takes Elia a second to work out what the hell he’s talking about._ _

__“Uhm.. yeah. Thanks, surprised you can still hear me in here.” He shrugs trying to ignore the compliment, evidently beginning to get really good at looking stupid in front of Filippo, who continues to grin._ _

__“Then you’re not a bad singer when you think no one can hear you. Was that Drupi?”_ _

__He cocks his head at that, surprised. “Yes actually. You know him?”_ _

__“Not well, just that song.”_ _

__Elia nods and there’s a pause. “What kind of music do you like?”_ _

__“Basically anything that’s gay and fun to dance badly to.” Elia laughs at his frankness._ _

__“And now apparently Drupi as well.” Filippo adds, still holding his gaze attentively as Elia realises he’s been complimented again. He’s feels himself softening quickly without a way to slow it down or pause._ _

__“What’s fun for you then?”_ _

__The question comes out sounding more off topic than Elia would have hoped, and knows enough about Filippo from their two conversations to predict it will be taken out of context. And it is, complete with raised eyebrow and mischievous laugh._ _

__“I like that question, Elia.”_ _

__On hearing his name spoken he looks down at his feet for the first time, wondering if Filippo can see right through him. If his front is failing._ _

___This is the last thing you need. Stop it.__ _

__Elia swallows and concludes that anything that he says now will mean taking a step he’s not ready for yet. Filippo does seem drunk and this is not the time. It’s rude, abrupt, and cowardly but he finds himself muttering an excuse about bringing Gio something from his coat anyway._ _

__He doesn’t look up to see Fillipo’s face again before he walks away with a hollow feeling. There’s something sparking in his chest, that he’s not ready to face right now. Not now at least, when the week’s stress is coming down on him all at once, and he acknowledges that he’s actually quite tired._ _

__On reaching the hallway he shuts the door behind him, blocking out only some of the noise as he wanders through. There’s some pictures on the wall he hadn’t noticed before: Filippo and Eleonora together, on holiday with friends, a few of them as children. Elia notices no one who looks like immediate family, and it hits him that they must be living on their own for a reason._ _

__The kitchen door is ajar by a couple of centimetres on his left, and Elia figures it’s as good a place as any to think as he makes way for it. A soon as its pushed open he finds himself retracted at the sight of Niccolò already sitting on the floor, leaning against the cupboards under the sink. He’s staring at his feet, no visible emotions on his face, until he catches sight of Elia in the doorframe._ _

__“Hey” he says simply._ _

__“Can I join you?”_ _

__A hint of light appears on his face as he gestures the space beside him. "Not having a good time then?"_ _

__“Not sure,” Elia says sitting down. “I think I’m just tired.” Then, a moment later when he’s settled, “What about you, are you alright?”_ _

__Niccolò nods faintly. “Sort of.” He pauses for a moment, glancing up to the ceiling. “To be honest New Year’s Eve has always been hard for me. This is one of the better ones.”_ _

__Elia tries to take this in, conscious of saying something wrong. He hasn’t known the boy beside him for very long. Niccolò continues before he finds the words to react._ _

__“The crowd got a bit overwhelming - So I was really curious to see what the kitchen floor looked like.” He’s smiling as he finishes, which Elia takes as a sign that it’s ok to chuckle too._ _

__“It’s not bad, could do with some cleaning though.”_ _

__“Maybe we should leave a note with suggestions.”_ _

__They both smile, the fridge’s low humming the only sound in the room._ _

__“How has your year been?” Niccolò asks eventually._ _

__It’s a good question, but again he’s lost for words that could encapsulate everything. “Long. Yours?”_ _

__“Extremely long, kind of extremely horrendous at the start. It ended much better.”_ _

__“Hmm.”_ _

___This poor boy,_ he thinks._ _

__“I’m glad for you,” Elia says quietly. “That things are a little better I mean.” ____

___Niccoló closes his eyes slowly and nods. When they open, tears have clouded and one begins to make its way down his cheek._ _ _

___Elia wishes he had the tact to find the right words to comfort him; to tell him that he is the reason Marti walks into rooms two feet taller these days, how they’re all happy he’s their friend._ _ _

___That it’s nice not to have to sit around and wallow alone._ __

____

____

___Niccolò clears his throat. “It’s just that – I think.. New Years feels like you have to start over again. Like everything you’ve done before is wiped away and it doesn’t matter anymore… I just – I just don’t like the idea that there’s a whole new page for me to ruin basically. I don't know if that makes sense” For a moment it seems like he wants to add something, so Elia waits. But nothing more is said._ _ _

_____Just say something._ __

___He begins without thinking this time. “No I mean, I get you, I think New Year is overrated too. I hate the pressure of suddenly needing to be perfect. As if you're gonna change in one day, how stupid. But you’re not going to ruin it, Nico. I mean – we all fuck up sometimes but you just keep going, we have to keep going. That’s the only way.”_ _ _

___That’s not good enough, Elia._ _ _

___“And – we’re all here for you. Whenever you need it.”_ _ _

___He hopes he hasn’t overstepped somehow, but his eyes are met again. Niccolò only looks at him kindly and Elia knows it means something like gratitude._ _ _

___“You’d think I would have learned to go to less parties by now,” he whispers shaking his head. “I knew if I didn’t go Marti wouldn’t either.”_ _ _

___“I think you’re overestimating how much he actually cares about coming to parties, trust me.”_ _ _

___Niccolò ponders for a moment. “I know. I just didn’t want to be the reason we didn’t go out and have fun. I feel really aware of myself in these situations.”_ _ _

___Suddenly the kitchen door handle is turned down, and the door swung open to reveal a slightly flustered Martino, hints of relief in his eyes. It’s as if Elia’s point is proven then and there and he smiles to himself, never doubting his friend would show up soon._ _ _

___“Hi guys, what's up?” he's trying to sound casual, but it’s still pretty hesitant. Elia indicates Niccolò with his eyes and Marti nods slightly, coming around to sit down next to him on the floor._ _ _

___Elia gets up onto his feet and sees Martino take Niccolò’s hand in his own._ _ _

___“I think I’m going to head off guys. i'll see you later yeah?”_ _ _

___“Wait – “ Martino interjects before he’s turned around. “You’re going home?”_ _ _

___Elia indicates he’s fine. Because he is. “Yeah, yeah don’t worry. I’m a little tired.”_ _ _

___Martino and Niccolò look concerned but still smile back at him when he closes the door behind him, heading out to find his coat. Behind him the speakers are shaking the walls as Elia adds up the number of hours he’s slept in the past week._ _ _

___Outside the night is cloudless and the moon full. The winter air hits him harshly and prickles his skin, but he decides to walk the long way home anyway, sharply ignoring the dull weight sitting in his chest._ _ _


End file.
